


The Memoirs of Lucy Wallace

by DoctorPandorica



Category: The Legend of Barney Thomson (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 15:57:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6430903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorPandorica/pseuds/DoctorPandorica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy Wallace had hoped to have lived up to her ambitions of following in her mother's footsteps, as one of the best detectives in Glasgow. However, despite finishing as top of over class and with said proud heritage to boot it seems as though the universe is set upon seeing her fail. She's nearing her 30th birthday, her mum's been locked up in the loony bin under suspicious of murder for five years and her bastard of a father died a year ago leaving her to pay off his debts on her own. Stuck working as a lackey for two over grown children with a pissing contest, it seems her only ally in life is a awkward diffident barber whom  may in fact be the answer to her prayers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Memoirs of Lucy Wallace

**Author's Note:**

> All characters are property of Douglas Lindsay with the exception of my OCs:  
> *Lucy Duncan-Wallace= Amy Manson  
> *Molly Wallace= Michelle Gomez  
> *Malcolm Duncan= Malcolm McDowell

**◊◊Prologue◊◊**

If someone were to ask me what I wanted in life, I was quick to give them an answer to satisfy, finish up with my psychology degree and that was that. Granted sometimes people would press me, about what I planned to do with it, I’d tell them the only full truth I don’t know. I mean technically none of what I’ve said is a lie, because I have decided to peruse a degree in psychology and I honestly don’t know what I want to do with it. However, I only do so because I have no clue on what to do with my life and have decided that with my cunning masters in bull shiting, I can get just about any decent and well-paying job. And Psychology was the only practical degree guaranteed that didn’t want to make me cry while doing, let alone thinking about doing it for the rest of my life. Which now that I think about it, most of the things I thought to expect out of life made me want to cry, I mean I know somethings are just unavoidable unless you’re fucking rich, lucky or both.

I just don’t fucking know, in fact the only thing I do know is that unsure of what I want other than, I don’t want a boring life simply living for the weekend, having to juggle work and a family with no room to expand my horizons and live life as full as I can. Not that I’m completely opposed to the idea of finding a significant other or having children of my own, I just don’t want the mundane and maddeningly stable lifestyle that seemed to always be included free of charge. Already 30 years old and I’ve got nothing going for me working as a secretary having to deal with a pissing contest between a detective and a constable arguing like a pair of swearing two year olds. Not to mention having to do odd jobs for the old mad bitch living across from to just pay for my fucking degree, not to mention the debt my fucking asshole of a father owed her that I didn’t find out until he died. Then there is keeping up with course work, that fact that my mum’s in the nuthouse and last, not least the fact that all my dad did leave me was his apartment along with all his useless shit.

I’m barley holding my head above water paying off debts, struggling to pull a proper thesis tighter to get my PhD and finish the rest of my course work. And yet, all I get asked is when are you seeing anyone? When are you going to get married? Don’t you want to have children? That is to say if they aren’t trying to set me up with their son, nephew, cousin and everything in between. Which reminds me did I mention I’m 30-year-old virgin, not that it should matter to most but, considering the fact I seem to be getting hornier and hornier with each fucking year. So why don’t I fuck somebody? Well, standards for one and I’ve never been one to fancy guys my age, although I will admit some girls have caught my eye it just never came about. Back during a time when I could afford to have friends to get tanked off my ass and the occasional fat fucking blunt to mix things up. Said friends you tease me about it, say I like daddy issues or something and one day I was end up on the pole, although money problems would’ve been fucking well sorted or at least better than are now.

Although I’d never admit it, the daddy kink did certainly seem appealing while some girls were masturbating to the guys from NSYNC and Tom Cruise. I had my sights on Jeremy Irons, Liam Neeson and Bowie always Bowie. And as of 5 years ago, I only had eyes for one man the painfully awkward barber son of aforementioned old mad bitch by the name of Barney Thomson. At first I thought it was just because my fetish for old men well beyond my age and the fact that he was one of the few people that didn’t treat me like a good for nothing black sheep, let alone tried to fucking hit on me. He was a gentleman, a genuinely good man the kind that sadly gets shit on by life and take it in stride somehow always managing to maintain their pride. So in that respect it was just lust it was admiration of his ability to live through shit life, all the while minding his mother whom had him at her beck and call. And all I wanted to do was fuck his brains out, hell I’d even toyed with the notion of giving him a blow job something that I’d never considered I’d ever do and just thinking about it made me want to gag but, not with Barney. Now I don’t know if that would constitute as love, I mean doing something for someone purely for their own happiness was a step in the right direction even it was something that vulgar.

And it wasn’t for lack of trying that we didn’t get _intimate_ during those five years, I was extremely subtle perhaps too much because it always seemed to go right over his head. Perhaps it was a lack of actual experience and the fact that my lack of confidence in the matter lead me to the internet for help, either way it was all a complete fucking flop.

For starters there was coming up with an opening line without it becoming obvious, asking for a ride was a downright bust because one way or another we’d always end up picking up his fucking mother and god forbid her gaggle hags. Opting to wait in the car but, he’d always insist of driving me home hell I’m surprised he didn’t walk me to the door. If I’d had been brave I would’ve straddled him the second those old biddies were out of sight and rode him like a fucking stallion.  But, of course  I wasn’t despite my sarcastic little snips and defiant comebacks I was too much of a good girl cosplaying as a free spirit I could only dream of being.

I also tried bringing him lunch, swing by with dinner or anything I could think to bake but, once again to fucking subtle slash to much of a chicken shit to go through with it. So I tried every fucking cliché in the book,

Pretending to trip and fall into him

_Lucy held her breath he always came by about this time to drop his mother off at Bingo, sure enough there he strode down the hall way. She waited till he was nearly at his mother’s and quickly rounded the corner only to be met with a startled cry as I was knocked to the ground,_

_“Oh God Lucy” came Barney’s voice as time seemed slow down once more, “I’m so sorry”_

_“Augh what the fuck did ya do now” scowled his mother_

_“It’s fine it was my fault; I wasn’t watching where I was going” Lucy assured, “I should have been more careful really I’m good”_

_“Are you sure” the object of the younger woman’s affections questioned wearily, “Oh Christ, you’re bleeding”_

_“No it’s fine, good nothing I can’t handle good day then” and with that Lucy promptly and ever so shamefully went back in ever defeated_

Then there was, the less classy way showing some skin, in my case work out gear which worked perfectly because I did run especially, since It went by the shop he worked at the perfect time when business began to drift off for the day. It had been so fucking perfect,

            _As Lucy came to a standstill outside the shop, she was actually grateful for the down pour drenching her, true be told she was never one to cloudy weather as downside. Took once last breath before stepping into the shop, immediately just about every head perked up hell even Wullie was doing a bit of rubbernecking himself, she was never one to brag but, in that moment she felt fucking fine. With her Under Armour Women’s shatter print Capris that stuck to my skin like fucking spandex especially in the rain and my grey “RUN LIKE HANNIBAL JUST INVITED YOU TO DINNER” tank top clinking to me almost just as time._

_“Hey fellas” she struggled to mask her giddiness with her typical chill smooth tone_

_It took every ounce of strength not to giggle like a school girl when they all chorused a “Hey”_

_“Is Barney in?” she questioned pulling out her ear buds_

_“Why the fuck are you always botherin with ‘em” came the annoying prattling of Chris, “I highly doubt he’d even know whit to do with ya”_

_Oh that fucking fucktard and his fucking mouth,_

_“Jealous are ya?” she baited, actually bother to give him the privilege of eye contact, “Well, I can tell you it’s not worth your time”_

_“Oh aye” he prods all fucking smug_

_“Aye” she mimicked, “Afraid, your barking up the wrong tree though”_

_“Oh c’mon luv you can do better than that?”_

_Lucy merely stared back at her brow furrowed,_

_“Do you really need me to spell it out for you” Chris gestured lifting his hands to her urging her to continue,_

_“Sweaty, Barney’s not gay? That why you’re always on him, harassing him ehh? Because you wanna sit **on** em’?”_

_Mike drop!!!! And with that Lucy strut down the to the back room to sound of their small audiences oohing and Chris’ voice snapping at them to fuck off. In this moment as she singled on her unsuspecting target, nothing was holding her back she was a fucking lioness zoning in on her kill, she even actually toyed with the notion of fucking him then and there._

_“Lucy? What are you doing here?”_

_“Funny you should ask that” she smiled, slowly edging towards him until it happened, there was a loud screeching as her still wet shoes skid on the slick floor then bam she slammed forward falling on her face._

And with that the universe it seemed had made it quite clear she and Barney no matter what romantic or sexual capacity much like my enjoyment in life where never meant to be. Or at least so I thought, on both accounts.

           


End file.
